Dawn of the Loco-wars

It's no secret that I think the locavore movement is largely moronic. To recap: Its environmental benefits are either non-existent or counterproductive, it often contributes to global warming worse, and serves only to make food more expensive while cranking up a notch in the ratchet of yuppie status-seeking.

But if there's one "benefit" I've been willing to concede it's that contributing to the local economy is something that some people get off on. And while it is an intuition I don't share -- I really don't see why my moral obligation should be to give my money to someone who lives within 100 miles of where I happen to live -- it's a morally arbitrary line that I'm happy to let other people indulge in.

Except that even this is probably not as harmless as it seems. The "love of ones own" over distant others is little more than parochialism, and as a recent story from the New York Times attests, the latent xenophobia is never far from the surface.

It all began when Portland, Oregon found itself hosting a national culinary contest devoted to making the most of heritage pigs. A hyperlocal chef named Eric Bechard took exception to the discovery that not all of the pigs entered in the competition were from Oregon:

“I get there and I get the flier and I’m immediately sickened because I’m seeing ‘local,’ ‘sustainable,’ ‘local farms,’ ‘local chefs,’ ‘local wine,’ ” Mr. Bechard recalled, “and then two of the pigs are from Kansas and Iowa? I’m looking at my friend and he said, ‘Eric, just let it go.’ ”

Many hours and drinks and insults later, witnesses told police Mr. Bechard was the aggressor when he encountered Brady Lowe, the event’s Atlanta-based organizer, outside a bar. Words were hurled and fists flew. The police came, firing Tasers and pepper spray.

There's a deep historical lesson in here: It is a short step from seeing a pig as "other" to seeing all "others" as pigs.

RELATED: Banff is looking to preserve its mountain-town authenticity by banning fast food.